


Quiet like Ocean

by academy_x



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8446981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/academy_x/pseuds/academy_x
Summary: James feels there is something similar between him and Anne, so he approaches her when they are on the Walrus sailing to the Maroon Island.





	

**Author's Note:**

> you can listen to the ambient ocean and ship noises I had open while writing this [here](https://mynoise.net/NoiseMachines/squeakingSailboatSoundscapeGenerator.php?c=0&l=6938000000663654003300) and [here](https://mynoise.net/NoiseMachines/oceanNoiseGenerator.php?c=0&l=6030493068304730473400) as bonus atmosphere

There is something similar between Anne Bonny and himself. James knows this, feels it. She is a raging gentle spirit, and he is… well, he doesn't know. Perhaps that is why he approaches, when he sees her standing in the shadows. She's leaning against the wood of the ship, hat tipped low and a bottle in hand.

It's late night, or early morning, time flows together at sea. The last stars blink above. James takes a position, next to her, but still at a distance. Anne is one big warning to stay away. He tries a friendly smile, sharp teeth glinting in the dark.

James looks down at the book he's holding. He doesn't know why he brought it. There is no light to read by. He touches the worn leather binding gently, runs his fingers along its spine in a comforting motion. He holds it up for Anne to notice, to comment on. She doesn't.

“Do you read?” James asks and regrets it as the words leave his mouth.

“No.”

Anne pulls her hat further down, ending the conversation before it began. James doesn't blame her. He feels like he's talked for years, used up all the words. The endless war meetings have left him tired to his bones, but sleep never comes easy. His thoughts are always spinning, planning.

James almost abandons the conversation there, but no, he created this tension. He will remain in it. He racks his brain, searching for an easy topic. Their common ground is hard.

He looks at the stars, picking out familiar constellations. He rarely looks at the sky just to look. There's always a navigational reason these days. The lights are stunning, and James considers commenting on them, but he doesn't think Anne will appreciate it. She doesn't need to talk about beauty to admire it.

Thomas never liked the stars, James remembers. There was so much on earth he would rather look at. James finds himself thinking of him more these days, and it hurts less. Miranda would be proud, he thinks, then pushes the thought away. It hurts, like carving out his heart, to think of her.

“Do you miss it?” Anne says out of the blue. “England.”

“Everything to miss is gone.” James says.

Anne nods once and doesn't say more. She takes a swig from the bottle. James wonders why she even asked.

“Do you miss Nassau?” James syas. He doesn't say _do you miss her,_ but it's there behind the words.

“Yes.”

Anne stays silent after that, having exhausted her share of conversation. The waves are the only thing breaking the quiet between them. James likes her, he realizes. There is an honesty about her. She is torn and whole in one moment. Anne passes her bottle to him, and James accepts. He takes a swig of bitter liquor. Perhaps she likes him too.


End file.
